Redemption
by Corianna15
Summary: "He looked into his lord's eyes. He saw the hurt, anger and betrayal reflected in those blue orbs. He didn't know how to make it right, or if he would let him. As scared as he was, he knew, if his lord demanded his life, he would gladly give it." Another take on the events of the season 5 finale. A scene that keeps running though my head. SPOILERS 5x12 and 5x13
1. Chapter 1

As much as I know this whole, alternate end thing has been overdone...this is a story, well a scene really, that has been running through my head ever since the series finale, so I felt compelled to write it down. It takes place between or in the last episodes. **So if you haven't seen the series finale yet, and don't want plot spoilers, read no further! **

This was originally supposed to be a one shot, but will end up being a few short chapters, so as to get out at least something for you all today. Hope you enjoy!

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REDEMPTION

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Merlin walked the battle field. Two emotions drove him forward. Worry and anger. He was worried he wouldn't find or get to Arthur in time. After his lightning show, the Saxons had retreated, but that didn't mean Arthur was safe. Merlin wished his 80 yr old body could move faster. He was thankful for the staff for support, especially as his cloak kept catching on fallen swords and shields. As much as he didn't want to, he had to stare at all the bodies, in Camelot red, to be sure the King wasn't among them. So much needless death. He was disgusted by the sight, and it fueled his anger towards Morgana and Mordred. He knew the only way Morgana could've known that he was Emrys, was that Mordred had betrayed them. Because of one boy's selfish act, his magic, the core of his being had been ripped from him, leaving him feeling more helpless than he had ever felt, and he had had to leave Arthur, at a time when he needed him the most. He would never forget the look of disappointment and betrayal on Arthur's face. He prayed he had the opportunity to make it up to him someday.

A cold feeling swept over Merlin as once again he feared he would be too late to save Arthur from Mordred's hand; and he found for the first time in his life, murder burned in his heart. It did not matter if Arthur was dead or still alive, if Merlin found Mordred, he would kill him, and he wouldn't shed one tear of regret or guilt.

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_**ELSEWHERE ON THE BATTLEFIELD**_

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Arthur lifted an injured soldier off the ground guided him back towards camp. He had made it about 5 steps when two other knights came and took the man from him. It had been like that since the Saxons had retreated. He had led a large group of the un-injured out to the battlefield to recover the wounded, they would deal with the dead, and there were many, after attending to the living. However his men wouldn't let him fully escort anyone back to camp. As much as he appreciated their dedication to each other, and him, it made him feel rather useless.

He knelt down next to a man who appeared to be unconscious, with blood trailing down the side of his head. He felt for a pulse and listened for breathing.

Relief flooded him. "Over here!" He shouted back towards the knights, who came and carried the man away.

He watched them leave, pride filling his heart, and stood up. He froze when he turned around. Further down the battlefield, a figure moved between the fallen and the dead, in a similar manner to what Arthur had been doing. Conflicting emotions flooded him as he took in the red robe, and long white hair and beard. He couldn't stop the anger, that that face triggered. The face of the man that had promised to save his father, and had failed. At the same time Arthur knew that without the old sorcerer, the battle would have been lost. The amount of power the old man had displayed, scared Arthur, but he was thankful at the same time.

Suddenly the old man paused as well, and met Arthur's gaze. "Arthur!"

Arthur was startled by the voice, for he knew he was too far away to have heard anything, but he could hear the relief in the voice that said his name. He stared dumbfounded as the old man's movement changed and he began heading straight towards the young king.

By now, some to of the knights had noticed Arthur's lack of movement and followed his gaze. They gathered around, swords drawn, ready to defend their King. Focused on the old man, no one noticed the dark figure moving in the shadows.

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-.-.-.-.-.-

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He stood still in between the two rock faces. The darkness of the crevice, hiding hiding his presence. He was ashamed to admit it, but he had run. When he saw him, up on the hill, commanding the lightning, fear gripped him and he had hid. He listened to the shouts of the knights of Camelot combing the battlefield looking for survivors. Then, his heart had stopped as Arthur came into view. He watched his former King as he went from man to man checking for the living. It surprised and amazed him to see Arthur, not just checking and calling for help for those in red cloaks and chain-mail, but Saxons as well. It reminded him of why he had chosen to follow Arthur in the first place, what he had seen in him. Compassion and honor. Yet, anger burned as he thought of Cora. Where was the great King's compassion then? He looked at the sword in his hand. He had never wielded such a powerful weapon of magic before. When Morgana had presented it to him, he had been proud to be her chosen warrior. He looked at it now conflicted. It was a weapon forged for one purpose. To bring Death. He looked back towards the battlefield. Arthur had moved past him. He crept forward slightly, keeping in the shadows, until he came into view once more. Arthur stood, still like a statue, looking off in the distance. Mordred could not see what it was that had caught the young king's attention, but it had drawn the attention of the knights as well. They had placed themselves in front of and to the side of Arthur. All attention was away from where Mordred lurked in the shadows. There was a clear path to Arthur. Fear and doubt gripped him as he tried to build up the courage to do what he knew he must. He steeled himself, took a deep breath and moved from the shadows.

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.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

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Arthur watched as the sorcerer steadily made his way towards them. The knights' presence didn't seem to both him. His nerves twinged as if to say 'DANGER!' but he knew that if the old man had intended to harm him, he would have done so already. He had stuck down dozens of Saxons, from three times the distance he was to Arthur now. Logic told Arthur, if the sorcerer had meant him ill, he would already be dead, but he couldn't shake a nagging feeling that something was off. He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the sounds of someone approaching, slowly from behind. It was what made him such a great warrior and hunter, even when distracted, his senses were always alert. He was loath to take his attention away from the sorcerer, but could tell by the rate of movement, that whoever it was, was moving slowly trying not to be heard, which was never a good thing. He gripped his sword tightly and waited until his foe was just past striking distance. As he turned around quickly, he heard someone shout his name.

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.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

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Merlin tried to control his excitement and he moved towards Arthur. He wanted to drop the aging spell so he could run to his friend's side. Of course that was not a wise idea, especially as the knights gathered to protect their king. He knew he needed to approach this situation with care. He was only a few meters away now. A small rock outcropping was the only thing that stood in his path. While normally he could have hopped up, onto and down it with ease, right now he may as well have been trying to climb a mountain. He grunted as he got up on top of the rock, using his staff to push himself up, and stopped to catch a breath before attempting the step down. He glanced towards Arthur, who still seemed so far away. That's when he noticed a slight movement behind the king. A dark figure, the glint of a sword. "Arthur!" He yelled and jumped forward. He cursed as he hit the ground and tumbled as his old legs gave out under the strain. He looked up, all had turned around. He couldn't see Arthur or Mordred, just the backs of the knights. He muttered a spell to give himself a burst of energy, pushed himself off the ground and raced forward praying he wasn't too late.

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Wishing everyone a HAPPY NEW YEAR!


	2. Chapter 2

REDEMPTION

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Arthur turned quickly, swinging his sword to block an incoming attack. However as he turned full his sword swept through empty air. He was startled as he saw the figure before him, down on one knee, head bowed, one hand resting on the hilt of a sword that was plunged into the ground. He looked at the mop of wavy black hair, and bent down slightly to get a better glimpse of the face.

"Mordred?" He questioned.

"My Lord." A timid voice replied, and the boy brought his eyes up slowly to meet Arthur's. Their reunion was interrupted by a ruckus coming from behind the nights.

"Move, move you fools!" A raspy voice bellowed. Arthur turned startled to see the old sorcerer appear from between the knights, breathing heavily. He glanced quickly at Arthur. The relief that was evident in his shoulders and face, quickly faded when his eyes found Mordred. Arthur noticed his stance became more authoritative and his face stern. The two stared at each other. After a brief second, Mordred dropped his gaze and stared at the ground. The silence lingered, no one really knew what to do. The knights waiting for orders from Arthur, but Arthur was watching the silent tension between the old man and his former knight.

The old man snorted with disgust, and said "We shall see." In a surprisingly quick movement, the old man brought his staff down on the back of Mordred's head.

"What the.." Arthur raised his sword.

"Bind his hands and take him back to camp." The old man interrupted.

"Why did you do that? And what gives you the right to give orders?" Arthur said in a tone that would make most of his subjects cower in fear.

The old man glared at him with annoyance, and Arthur couldn't help feel familiarity in it, but then the man's eyes softened, along with any snippy retort he was about to make. He took a few steps towards Arthur.

"He cannot be trusted. For your own safety, please. I know this is asking a lot from you at the moment, but I need you to trust me." His voice was urgent and more commanding than pleading. However, Arthur noticed a certain gentleness in the tone of his voice that was unlike any other encounter he had had with this sorcerer, who normally yelled at or scolded Arthur in a nasally, raspy voice laced with disdain. If he closed his eyes and focused on the voice alone, Arthur would not have thought it to be the same person. Because he was bewildered, Arthur simply nodded his head in agreement and signaled to his men.

"You two," he pointed. "Bind him and take him back to camp. Keep him under guard until I return." He looked up at the other knights. "There are still a lot of wounded that need care, back to your duties." Most of the knights dispersed and followed their King's commands. Sir Leon though, happened to be among the knights at Arthur's side and stood his ground, looking warily at the sorcerer.

In the time it took for Arthur to disperse the knights, the sorcerer had walked over to the sword in the ground and pulled it out. He held it up and examined the blade. He gave another snort of disgust, returning to the comical nature that Arthur was used to seeing.

"This," he said, "is a very dangerous weapon."

"Well it is a sword..."Arthur said patronizingly. The old man looked at him annoyed.

"It's not just a sword you cl..." the insult died on his lips, and he pointed the tip of the sword to the ground. "This sword was forged in a dragon's breath and fortified with dark magic." There was an edge of disgust in his voice. "My guess is Morgana had it specially made to kill you." He pointed the sword briefly at Arthur and turned around. "Best to put it somewhere where it can do no more harm." Arthur watched him, as he awkwardly hobbled away from him. Leon moved in close to Arthur.

"Arthur, what should we do?" he said quietly.

"I don't like this sire." Leon said stepping in. "He threatened to kill you once, almost got Gwen executed, and..." Leon stopped. "He's the one that should be bound and put on trial."

Arthur glanced briefly at the knight, about to reply when the sorcerer's movement caught his eye. He had stopped on the other side of a boulder sticking about knee high, out of the ground near the cliff face. The sorcerer laid his staff down and raised the sword, point down, with both hands high above the rock. His eyes glowed an intense golden color as he drove the sword down into the rock, all the way down to the hilt. Arthur and the knights were taken aback by the show of power.

"Do you really think we could contain a man that can control lightning and a dragon, and do," he pointed with his sword, "that?" He did not answer, knowing it was rhetorical. "Besides," Arthur continued, "if he had meant us any harm, he would've helped the Saxons win the battle, not us." Leon nodded in resignation and understanding. "You should go help the others. I'll deal with, this." While he was hesitant to leave him, he bowed and obeyed. Arthur focused his attention back to the sorcerer.

"That should take care of that." The old man snickered as he made his way back.

Arthur stared hard at the sword hilt sticking up out of the rock, and a thought occurred to him. He looked down at the weapon in his hand. Excalibur, Merlin had called it. The sword he had pulled out out of solid rock. It had always felt right in his hands, like it was more than just a weapon he wielded. It was more like an extension of himself when he fought. Confusion must have been evident on his face because the old man chuckled as her got nearer.

"Ah, yes. You are right in thinking that there is a connection." A puzzled expression crossed the King's face as he regarded the sorcerer. "Excalibur is also a weapon forged in a dragon's breath." He continued when he saw fear cross Arthur's face. "However, where as Mordred's sword's purpose was to bring death, the one you now hold, was forged to defend life. It was destined to be yours Arthur, to belong to a King that is fair and just, who could unite the people in peace."

There was no mockery in the old man's tone. As he took in his words, Arthur noticed the hopeful look in the other's eyes. Eyes that if he stared long enough, he swore were familiar.

"Who are you?" Arthur asked dumbfounded.

"Whadda ya mean, 'Who am I?' I'm the one that has to repeatedly save your royal backside!" He scrunched up his face.

'_And he's back.'_ Arthur thought rolling his eyes. "Look, Emersz, Rhyses? No."

"Emrys." The old man corrected.

"Right. Emrys. What I mean is why are you hear? Why did you help us? Surely you know that Camelot is no friend to those with magic."

"And yet here were are, the King of Camelot and a sorcerer having a civil discussion. If your father had been here, he would've tried to chop my head off the moment he saw me." Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but the old man raised his hand to stop him. "Now I know you get touchy when people talk badly about your father, but you have to see how different you are from him right?"

Arthur's protest dies in his throat. He shut his mouth as the memory, from earlier that year, of the encounter with his father's spirit, came to him.

The sorcerer nodded, as if he could read Arthur's thoughts. He smiled. "Now to answer your question, whether you believe it or not, I believe that you are destined to do great things and bring about a time of peace that this land has not known for a very very long time." He paused, looking away from Arthur. "And you and I share a common enemy. Morgana. As much as she hates you, she hates me even more, because I stand against her. People like her, who use magic for their own selfish, and evil purposes, are why those of us who use magic for good, are forced to live in fear." He spoke with passion; almost getting emotional.

Arthur didn't know what to say. This day was quickly becoming overwhelming for him. The old man filled the silence sounding tired.

"Well, I believe I have kept you from your men and duties long enough. There are some things I need to see to. However, the boy Mordred, wishes to speak to the both of us later. I don't trust him, but am willing to hear him out."

Arthur look confused again. "How would you know that?"

"He told me, before I knocked him out." Arthur just stared at him and understanding filled the sorcerer's eyes. "Ahh, yes. Forgot we had that conversation privately. The druids, and beings who posses powerful magic, have the ability to communicate without words, through our thoughts. So later whenever he regains consciousness or you are ready to have assembly with him, just have the boy call me through his thoughts and I will come." Emrys bowed and turned to leave.

Arthur was so tired and felt like his mind was about to explode. He had so many questions, reservations, and doubts, but he knew now was not the time, as the old man had clearly decided the conversation was over. One thing however came to his mind, that he couldn't ignore.

"Wait," he called. The old man turned back slightly.

"Thank you." Arthur said sincerely.

The old man dipped his head. "You highness." He resumed his course away from the battle field.

Arthur took one last look at the man's back before rejoining his knights.

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_**A/N: Hope you like it! Reviews always appreciated. **_


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